


Comparative Law

by uncafeavecbarnes



Category: Defending Jacob (TV 2020)
Genre: Age Difference, Beards (Facial Hair), Boss/Employee Relationship, Desi Character, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Gentle Sex, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28651017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncafeavecbarnes/pseuds/uncafeavecbarnes
Summary: Andy Barber, your boss and mentor, comes to your graduation party, leading to mutual confessions.
Relationships: Andy Barber/Original Female Character(s), Andy Barber/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Comparative Law

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my loves. Anyone who knows me is well aware I love to call back on the year I studied European Law. Perhaps that's part of my fascination with Andy Barber. Of course, it helps he's so handsome and dedicated to his loved ones. There is some self-indulgence with the Desi!Reader, and I absolutely loved weaving those elements in.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcome. You can also follow me on Tumblr.

Every sense brought alive in a harmonious dance of sights, smells and sounds. The gentle thrum of a  _ sitar _ punctuated by the crunch of  _ papdi _ shells. Crisp, flaky, oozing creamy yogurt that plays a sharp contrast to the tang of tamarind water. Each one elicits the jingle of bangles, wrists shining bright in gold. And over the rim of a glass of mango  _ lassi _ , you lock gazes with a pair of blue eyes.

Andy Barber, you wonder what he must think of you. It’s a far cry from the pressed pantsuits you grace the courtroom with, hardly the odd pair of jeans he’s seen you in when weekends at the office are necessitated. A vision in a traditional dress, awash in a shade of rose that ends in a floaty hem. A  _ kameez _ , a long shirt, adorned with intricate hand embellishments and matching raw silk pants. A cotton silk  _ dupatta _ , a long and wide shawl-like scarf, ruched over your shoulder. There’s a slight unaccustom that comes with dressing up so extravagantly, but you carry yourself with elegance and the knowledge that you look beautiful.

Perhaps Andy thinks so too, as he offers a genuine smile that accompanies a congratulations to your graduation and a quick word of gratitude to your parents for the invitation to the celebrations. You discern the flicker of his eyes over you, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile only a fraction wider than before. And his voice, deep in baritone, it’s only just audible to you.

“You look beautiful.”

Words that you have heard a thousand times over in the last hour. Humble acceptances, disagreements in jest, polite returns. And yet, Andy says them in a way that has you believing them. The velvet quality to his tone has heat blossoming all over and your eyes shyly averting his. A quiet sincerity echoes in every syllable. A hushed secret, one that has only ever been confessed in lingering gazes under fluorescent lights and imagined caresses of fingertips during coffee cup exchanges.

Words that find you on Andy’s doorstep merely an hour later. A foil container of leftover party food and a clumsy excuse. A breath that stutters at how undone he looks, tie unknotted and shirt unbuttoned, thick hair baring the telltale brush of restless fingers.

“You look handsome,” you blurt. “I never had the chance to tell you back at the party.”

Andy expresses a true curiosity. Fingers gentle from the moment they intertwine with yours. The way he leads you to his bedroom reminiscent of the control and dominance you know him to possess. Respect hesitates his fingers before they slide your  _ dupatta _ off your shoulder. His chuckle genuine and with a gravelly quality as you begin the laborious process of removing your bangles.

“You really do look beautiful,” he murmurs, words tinged with a slight reluctance as you drape your silk pants on the back of a chair. “I know that might not mean much, coming from me…”

“It means the world, Andy, coming from you.”

Sadness swirls in the depths of his eyes and you chase it away with the fingertips you brush along his jaw, giggling softly at how his beard tickles. The fleeting thought of how it would feel elsewhere and no doubt, it crosses his mind too. A dark flash in his eyes. And suddenly, the air around you heats up with urgency you no longer want to repress.

The moment Andy presses his lips to yours, the world melts away until it’s just you and him. A barely there sigh he swallows and returns with a firm kiss. Soft lips that linger long and slow. Coarse hairs that scratch delightfully, send shivers racing your down as his tongue sweeps along the seam of your mouth. Your lips part easily, his tongue licks into your mouth as if to tease of what’s to come. He leaves you breathless from just a few kisses, chuckling huskily at the whine you breathe out when he draws back.

“Andy…”

“I know, honey.”

Deep breaths of Andy’s scent, amber and leather-rich sillage. Desire sparking at every inch of skin he bares as he sheds you of your dress. You nose along his jaw, roam your hands along his broad shoulders, shudder out a moan in his ear. His own clothes, he tosses aside carelessly, the thick wall of his chest rises and falls rapidly. He’s built like an intricately carved marble statue, soft skin cocooning hard muscle, peppered with dark hair. A simple chain hangs around his neck. No sooner do your fingers curl around it that nearly a beat later, his own explore you with a hungry admiration.

“You’re beautiful, _Jesus_ _Christ_ , do you know how beautiful you are?”

A startled cry at how cool the bedsheets are under your hot skin and as your mind dizzies over with lust, Andy settles between your parted legs to nip along the inside of your thighs. His eyes have blackened with want and you’re already too lost in the promise of pleasure to be embarrassed over the countless times you’ve fantasised about this very moment. Your breath soon hitches, the burn of his beard even more intoxicating than you could imagine. And god, Andy’s mouth is heaven and hell all at once. Your back arches off the sheets, fingers grasping desperately at his hair as you rock against his face. The vibrations of his blissful growl roll through you, a fresh wave of arousal dampening his jaw.

“Andy…  _ please _ … Andy…  _ Andy _ ,  _ Andy _ ,  _ Andy _ ..”

Rendered a whimpering mess, every sensation is so much more acute. The scruff of his beard against your sensitive folds. The wet warmth of his mouth over your clit. The thickness of his fingers as they glide in and out of you, the growl that tumbles from Andy so  _ obscene _ it’s your undoing. You cry out his name sharply, the only word you’re capable of and somehow it encourages him to all but  _ bury _ his face in your folds with a newfound desperation. You drown in the bliss readily, let it consume you from the inside out until you’re  _ shaking _ with the aftershocks.

Andy, Andy is positively  _ erotic _ . Eyes wide with the thrill of being the man to pleasure you like this. Head trapped between your thighs. Beard soaked with your release. He pushes a feral moan into your mouth as he kisses you as if he’s claiming you, the taste of him on your tongue is a renewed flurry of heat. An almost languid mewl catches high in your throat as he gazes down at you in worshipful awe. The kind of look that is responsible for the tremor rushing down your spine and your walls clenching around nothing in ache of the hardness that’s pressed to your hip.

You half expect him to make a move. His cock hard and leaking over your hipbone is evidence enough of his own desire for you. He does make a move eventually, one that surprises you. His lips brush over yours, arms encircle your body.

“Stay with me. Let me take care of you, honey.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Come say hello on Tumblr](http://uncafeavecbarnes.tumblr.com/)


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